


Beauty and the... wait no, not that one

by Notasmuch



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22713739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notasmuch/pseuds/Notasmuch
Summary: There's a legend of a beautiful prince who was enchanted into a hundred year long sleep by an evil warlock who wasn't invited to the prince's christening by his royal parents. Of course, the legend is wrong but how was Brad supposed to know.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Nate Fick
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	Beauty and the... wait no, not that one

**Author's Note:**

> I am actually working on a larger story in which this is just the first chapter, but I think this can stand alone as a fun bit so here it is for now. Some day I hope to post the whole ass thing, but no promises on when. If I start doing a chapter by chapter thing, I'll mark it as wip.

The room was too light, Brad thought. He, of course, had slept on rocks and soil at various times of day in rain and snow and sun, because such was the life of a prince at wartime, but he figured if his one job was sleeping, he would want to be comfortable. Complete darkness, maybe some music occasionally, someone to read him books. When his mind started speculating on how much the sleeping man could hear, see and generally perceive in his sleep, Poke’s voice in his head reminded him that he was just postponing the inevitable, in that matter of fact tone that he hated, but that got him through worse times. It was just one kiss. He could do this. Then he’d go home and, well, be forced to marry somebody else but at least that person would be conscious, hopefully. 

He stood up straighter and walked over to the bed. He still wouldn’t look at the man’s face, but he looked at his body under the blankets. He was covered from chin to toe, bedding arranged too neatly for anyone sleeping a natural sleep. _Had he been kept like this from the start, for centuries?_ Brad wondered. There was no dust anywhere in the room, it smelled fresh and crispy, as if the windows had been opened recently. But there was no one in the room, aside from the two of them, and no one Brad and his knights crossed paths with when they entered the castle. No guards, no servants. 

“I guess you don’t eat much,” Brad heard himself say too loudly in the silent room and his dumb words echoed back to him from the dark corners. He really hoped the man couldn’t hear anything. “Sorry, I was just wondering why there were no servants around here.” Just in case he did. 

Once again Brad pushed himself and looked up, into the man’s face. Nate. Everyone knew his name, Nate, _Lord something_, the sleeping man. He looked… ordinary. Soft face, no scars, plush lips, Brad noticed, trying not to, it was just, they weren’t dry. Obviously, the man was being kept alive by means of magic, no one slept for centuries without ageing or eventually dying, but it was just a tiny detail, that Brad noticed. Never mind. Big ears. 

“You look,” Brad cleared his throat. “You haven’t aged. Or, you don’t seem to have. I don’t know how you looked when you fell asleep. I’m Brad. Colbert. I’m a prince of a neighboring region. You might be wondering why you should care. Or, you might know exactly why I’m here. How many people have tried to kiss you before? The castle didn’t seem to put up a lot of resistance when we walked in, we expected more of a struggle. Well, my predecessors all failed in waking you up anyway. But, that’s why I’m here. To try to kiss you so you’d wake up.” Brad sighed. “I’m not usually this talkative, or this tentative. I feel like both Ray and Walt rolled into one. But you don’t know me, you can’t see me, and kissing you without any sort of introduction seems incredibly wrong. I would kill anyone who tried to do this to me." 

Brad paused. He was rambling. 

"I don’t know if anyone told you this but there’s a legend going around about you. How a true love’s kiss will wake you up and then whoever kisses you basically gets to marry you. I’m not gonna hold you to that part. I am, however, going to try to kiss you. See, there’s a legend going around about me too, and it says I have to kiss you. It’s ridiculous. I don’t love you. Obviously. I don’t even know who the hell you are. Apparently you were ‘gentlest of spirit and kindest of soul’. Apparently, you are here through no fault of your own. But that’s just a story. I don’t know how long you’ve actually been here. My whole life, that’s for sure. I think my dad’s life too. After that, the stories get a bit esoteric but it could have been centuries.” 

Brad moved closer to the headboard and the man’s face. “I’ll try to kiss you now. If you do wake up, I hope you don’t freak out too badly.” 

He took a breath. A quick kiss, and it would be over. The man has been sleeping forever, Brad certainly didn’t love him, and if walking into the castle and mildly assaulting a man was his destiny, he would fulfill it, and then walk away and live his own damn life. He felt sorry for the man, but none of this was Brad’s doing. Well. Except for this part. The kiss was definitely on Brad. 

When he leaned in closer he could feel the man’s breath on his face and it was a shocking reminder, as if he needed more, that this man was alive. Magically alive but still alive. Breathing. Brad moved closer until their lips touched, staring at the night table on the other side of the bed for a beat, before he started to move away. 

Strong fingers wrapped themselves around his neck and before he could defend himself, a wave of magic painful as a lightning strike threw him against the wall. He watched as the man pushed the cover off himself, muttered “I’m gonna kill that piece of shit,” and got out of bed on the other side of Brad, toward the door. Only to collapse and disappear behind the bed the second he tried to stand up. 

Brad shook his head to clear it and ran to the other side. The man, Nate, dammit, was sitting on the floor glaring at his legs and poking fingers into them. 

“You might need to give them a minute,” Brad said, trying not to laugh. 

Nate raised a hand in his general direction and Brad stepped away with his hands in the air. “I’m not a threat.” 

“Obviously,” the man muttered again. Only, Brad realized he wasn’t muttering, his voice was just not strong enough to be as loud as it should be. Nate rubbed his neck, confirming the theory. 

“Rude,” Brad joked. That got the power of Nate’s glare on him. His eyes were… Brad tried to stop the thoughts from rolling in. His first assessment of Nate's appearance as “ordinary” was way off. His lips were still soft looking, even pressed in anger, but his eyes were cold and hard as ice. The contrast made Brad shiver. Nate got back to glaring at his legs, clearly dismissing Brad as both a threat and interest. 

“Would you like some help sitting up?” Brad checked. 

“No.” 

Of course. 

Brad stood there, watching while Nate gave his body time to readjust. His arms were weaker than they first seemed too. Magic made them stronger for a while, but they were also falling lifelessly from Nate’s shoulders now, as he leaned against the side of the bed. 

“Have all your muscles atrophied?” Brad asked, suddenly concerned. 

“No.” 

“Would you like something to eat?” 

“I thought you said there were no servants here.” 

“Ah. You heard that.” 

“Yes. I’ve been blessed by hearing every damn thing that’s been happening here for the last how many decades, including the guy who jerked himself off while touching my face.” Nate answered bitterly. 

“Holy shit. I’m sorry.” 

Nate looked at him. 

“I know I shouldn’t have…” he waved trying to indicate Nate’s lips, that he kissed. 

That got him a sigh. “You weren’t wrong. It’s what it took to break the spell.” 

“True love’s kiss?” Brad asked, skeptical? 

Nate snorted and moved his fingers tentatively. It didn’t seem to hurt. “No, my magic was looking for something.” 

“Your magic.” Brad had noticed, yes.

“Mm.” Nate looked him up and down in a way that was clinical but still had Brad trying to stand taller. He didn’t elaborate. 

“Is that who you’re going to kill?” Brad asked. 

Nate’s face darkened. “No. The guy who did this to me.” 

“Are you sure he’s still alive? It’s been… How long has it been?” 

“A hundred years or so. Not that long.” 

“Right.” Brad couldn’t imagine. Sleeping, but not sleeping, for a hundred years. Not that long. 

“He’s alive.” 

Brad nodded. Nate moved a leg and hissed. “Let me help you sit up,” Brad offered again. 

Nate sighed. Then nodded. 

Brad approached him carefully despite the nod, but when he crouched down there was no way to be gentle about it. Nate was wearing a colorful robe, not one meant for sleeping, but one that covered his whole body nonetheless. Brad was in full metal, because they had no idea what they would encounter when they got to the castle. He wrapped his arms around Nate’s torso and tried not to let their faces brush as he picked him up, not gently enough if Nate’s grunt was an indication, until he could sit on the bed, his legs hanging down. Nate couldn’t hold himself in the sitting position easily, so Brad sat closer and held him up, trying not to smell his hair. It was a clean smell, like everything about Nate. 

Time went by and they didn’t speak. Brad had so many questions, but he figured if Nate wanted to share, he would. Brad wasn’t his friend, or husband, or lover. Brad was just a guy who woke him up. Which meant. Suddenly it hit him. The legend. Both of their legends. He woke up the sleeping man. 

“What does that legend say about me?” Nate broke the silence with a question like he could read Brad's mind.

“That you were kind, and gentle, and that this was no fault of your own. There was a warlock who your parents didn’t invite to your christening and he got so upset he enchanted you to fall asleep on your twenty-first birthday, as a punishment to them.” 

Nate snorted. “Oh wow. That got out of hand.” 

Brad waited. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t deserve this, but my parents had nothing to do with any of it.” 

Nate waved his fingers around and this time Brad could see actual lightning move between them. Suddenly, recklessly, he wanted to touch so badly his hand was moving before he thought about it. The hairs on his arms stood up when his fingers got too close, and Nate watched as Brad hovered just close enough to feel it, but not so close he would get hurt. 

“I’m the warlock,” Nate said. “Or, I’m _a_ warlock. My parents were kind, sweet people who wanted the best for me so they sent me to apprentice for the most well known magic user in the county. Turned out, he was a man with too much confidence, not enough magic, and he truly hated anyone who was better than him in any way. A small kid wielding more magic than he could ever muster in a million years? I wasn’t his favorite person.” 

Brad wished he could erase the bitter pain from Nate’s voice as much as he wished he was allowed to offer comfort. 

“I’m also a bit of an asshole. I never learned to be afraid of my powers, never learned to bend to his anger, never learned not to show off in front of him. A simple trick would have him sleeping it off for hours, if not days. Meanwhile I could build houses without losing breath. I worked hard on it, don’t get me wrong, but my pool of magic was always just bigger than his.” 

Nate’s voice _was_ proud. Brad could imagine a boy growing into his power, wanting to show off, wanting to share it with someone, everyone, and he could see how that would grate on the type of petty man who craved but never had that kind of power.

“I stayed with him for longer than I should have. The only thing bigger than his craving for power was his library. I could learn so much there, and so I stayed even when I could have, should have, left for something better. I never knew why he wanted me there in the first place. Eventually, he had enough. He decided to get rid of me the only way he could, since he couldn't kill me. He put some herbs into my dinner and when I fell asleep enchanted this bullshit. He sent me back to my parents, saying the magic had exhausted me and nothing could wake me up until it refilled. My parents…” Nate’s voice broke for the first time, and Brad couldn’t just sit and listen. He wrapped his fingers around Nate’s, trying to offer something. 

“They lived and died taking care of me. Servants left after that. They weren’t needed. The guards left when the food ran out. My magic and the castle did what they could to protect me. Sometimes it worked.” 

Brad let go of his hand then because he still didn’t know. Was him being here just a coincidence of timing, a temporary ebb in the magic that was beyond Nate’s control, or did Nate waking up mean he was chosen, worthy? He had no right. 

Slowly, as they had talked, Nate’s body had started moving, and at first every move was followed by a grimace or a hiss, but eventually, he was ready to try standing up again. It went better this time, as did walking. The urgent murderous fire inside Nate seemed to have been doused by that point though. He stood in the center of the room looking as lost as Brad felt. 

This was the point, Brad knew, where he should inform Nate about their big destiny to get married. And then, according to legend, Nate would fall gratefully into his arms. And they would live happily ever after. 

“Would you like some help?” 

Nate turned to him, looking puzzled. 

“Killing him, I mean.” 

A wide, happy smile spread over Nate’s face, making him somehow look years younger, the bitterness, anger and pain gone as if swept away. “I knew my magic chose well.” Brad didn’t know what that meant but if Nate noticed, he ignored his confusion. “Yes. Yes I would.”


End file.
